


Homeward Found

by MoominQuartz (IceCreAMS)



Series: Jam Bud Week [5]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Character Study, Drabble, Experimental Style, F/M, Fluff, Home, Jam Bud Week 2020, POV Connie Maheswaran, POV Second Person, Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:13:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22595338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceCreAMS/pseuds/MoominQuartz
Summary: How do you know your “home”?Written for Jam Bud Week, Day 5: Home.
Relationships: Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe
Series: Jam Bud Week [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1622275
Comments: 12
Kudos: 50





	Homeward Found

**Author's Note:**

> This one's a little weird, I'll admit it. But I'm rather fond of it. I hope you all enjoy.

How do you know your “home”?

Is it in the shape of a house, in its bones? Is it in the smell of curry and freshly-baked bread after a long day of school? Is it in the way your mother’s brows furrow at the sight of a sword she knows she cannot part you from? Is it in the way your father attempts to summon your smile with misplaced words and flat jokes?

Is it in the way you know exactly where to step to avoid creaking floorboards? Is it in the way you’ve memorized exactly how much weight you can put into each step without waking anyone within its walls?

Is it in the way guilt sinks into your stomach, knowing love cannot keep you safe?

Or is it something else entirely?

Perhaps it’s found in the pages of worlds you can never visit. Perhaps it’s found in the arms of a fantasy heroine you can never hope to be, or on the battlefield of magic and shapeshifters and such expertly written dialogue you could pretend, for a moment, that it was you instead.

Is a “home” not stationary, but transitory?

Is it in the way you’re welcomed in with open arms and no questions? The way you digest information about another mission, another role to fulfill? Is it in your purpose, in your utility, in the way you devote yourself to a cause without thought? Is it in the way your training produces bruises, cuts, bandages, blood in your mouth?

Is it more symbolic than any of that? Is it in the sword you lift to match his shield, in the way you act as his right hand, striking swiftly, with only the intent to protect him coursing through your veins and nothing, nothing else?

Or is it something softer? Is it in the way your wounds are tended to, in the way your arms lifted and intensely inspected for injuries? Is it in the care paid to ensuring your continued wellbeing? Is it in the way he presses kisses up your arm, long after your wounds have sealed?

Is it in the way he presses his forehead to yours and looks in your eyes and sees nothing but the universe?

Maybe.

Maybe it’s in the way he holds you. Maybe it’s in the way he seeks your heat like he’s freezing. Maybe it’s in the way he wraps his jacket around you at the slightest hint of a chill. Maybe it’s in the way he meets your parents with such genuine enthusiasm, his adoration of you seeping into every conversation. Maybe it’s in the way he twirls you around and presses his nose into your neck and blows bubbles like you’re both five.

Maybe it’s in the way you hold him. 

It’s in the way he cries in your arms and pries himself open in a way he would for no one else. It’s in the way you steal his shirts just to see the look on his face when you wear one. It’s in the way he serenades you and allows you to join. It’s in the way his parents, all four (five?) of them, treat you like you’re theirs, in the way they wrap their arms around you and tell you how much he loves you, in the way he giggles and blushes but doesn’t dare deny a word of it. 

It’s in him.

His head is against your shoulder, snoring, finally able to get some well-deserved rest, and you cannot help but smile. Here you are, his knight, defending him not from corrupted gems or an alien invasion, but from the threat of restlessness.

Home is a person, and here he is.


End file.
